


Not so sleeping beauty

by shallowness



Category: Dark Angel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-01
Updated: 2004-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shallowness/pseuds/shallowness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OC comes to a realization.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not so sleeping beauty

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, and I make no profit from this fan-written fiction.
> 
> Set during late season 2. Thanks to Friday angel for betaing, all idiocies are mine.

OC closed the door with her butt, holding the spoils from the market in both hands. Max was still sorting through the kitchen in her loose about-the-house garb, almost humming. Her roommate smiled, but held back her loud hail when she saw the sleeping form on what the girls liked to call a sofa.

“Hey boo, yo’ boy’s prettier 'never when he sleeps,” she whispered, dumping the bags next to Max’s feet.

“Oh, he’s not sleeping,” grinned Max, “So I’m sure his ego lapped up that compliment.”

“How did you know?” asked the outed faker.

“Your breathing never changed!”

“Well, feel free to carry on admitting how much you both want me.” The tea towel accurately smacked his face.

Going to look for the meat in the bags, OC wondered what made that exchange strike her as so strange. Maybe all the smiling? There it was, skulking at the bottom. She hadn’t been able to barter over the price, so she was putting it on ice immediately. No – Max hadn’t delivered her automatic ‘not my boy’ disclaimer. OC sneaked a look at her bud, holding the tea towel again as she watched Alec sink back down and close his eyes.

“He just came back from Terminal City. We’ve got a wish-list of electronic goodies to get,” Max said in response to the other woman’s gaze.

“Cool,” OC offered, rethinking the cooking plans, so they’d be out of fresh vegetables a day sooner. She knew her transgenic appetites. It was something else that was hovering on the tip of her tongue, something that Pretty Boy Big Ears didn’t need to hear. Something about Max’s relaxed gait and untroubled eyes. Did she really not see that with all the time she spent with him, hanging, he might as well be her boy?

END  
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